Heroes Of Sanctuary Highschool
by Salem'sDarkness
Summary: PG13 just in case. What would happen in a school of secrets that may affect the entire human race? What if the heroes of the game were actually just kids going to highschool in modern day life? This is their story. Reviews welcomed and plz no flames.
1. The Heroes

Hello to the peoples reading this fanfic. This is ma second story so far. Reviews are welcomed and please no flames... Um... Besides that...uh...enjoy! :P

Disclaimer: No. The great works of Diablo only belong to Blizzard. Oh poo...

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Nick was just a normal kid in a normal town who went to a normal school. Then again, these days the word 'normal' doesn't exactly mean what it was supposed to mean twenty years ago. Despite the fact that Nick was your average piercings-and-chains-and-black-wearing sixteen-year-old, the town being secretly built over over ancient burial grounds in which demons rites were performed that nobody knew about, and that Sanctuary Highschool was the strangest school on the particular continent, everything was just normal. 

The boy, whose long hair he had dyed white, sighed as the last summer day had gone by. He had always felt alienated from all the others, save for his strange friends, because of his strange 'abilities' he had had to hide, and now he was forced to endure yet another grueling year of 'serviceable and beneficial education'.

The sharp ringing of the class bell signaled a warning that all the unfortunate students had five minutes before the tardy slips were whipped out, as he arrived on his skateboard. Balancing his studded knapsack on his shoulder, the rebellious teenager whizzed past a large sign that said, 'SANCTUARY COLLEGE PREPATORY HIGHSCHOOL', and entered the front doors crowded with other disheartened students. Once in the halls, Nick found his locker, number 139, and calculated what class he'd have to suffer through first.

"Yo Nick, ma' man, wassup?" said one of those 'strange friends'. Patrick was a dark-skinned sixteen-year-old who didn't quite make it as a 'Homie' but still tried anyway. He also didn't wear baggy clothes and lacked the muscle mass to become a 'playa'. Patrick held out his hand for a high five but Nick just stared at his hand as if it were the cafeteria's notorious meatloaf.

"My name is Crow, Patrick..." Nick said, annoyed at being called by his first name.

His friend shrugged. "Hey, I wanted everyone to call me Mista' P, but no one calls me 'dat either."

"Nick Crow Mancer," said a blonde, very cheerleader-looking girl.

Nick flinched at being called by his full name, which was even worse than Patrick's doing and reminded him of a scolding mom. He often wondered how in the world she had become one of his friends. Amanda Zon strutted up to the two, wearing a smile as bright as her neon pink shirt. Oh how Nick hated being seen around her. The only cool things about her was that she had some wicked fighting skills in archery and a record belch from last year's soda contest. Oh yeah. That was why he had such an odd mixture of buddies. Everyone in their particular group knew how to wield a weapon, even though it was just a hobby of their's, and also because they were alienated as well, despite their different personalities.

"Hey 'Manda," responded Crow, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"Hiya' Pat," she said cheerily.

"Yo! It's Mista' P."

"Whatever, Mr. Pee..."

Hefting some rather heavy Physics books, the three began arduous journey through the congested halls toward the class that they had, upon comparison of schedules, to take together.

Patrick strutted alongside Nick. "So Nick-"

"Crow."

"-Nick, how's your grandmother?"

Crow sighed. "She's fine. She keeps stinkin' up the house but she's doing better at not falling apart."

The squeamish girl walking to their right clutched her books to her chest. "Eww... That is sooo gross. How can you stand dead relatives living in your house?"

"Literally dead," added Patrick, staring intently at Nick.

"Well, I told you it a mistake. It sure did freak out my mom though..." said the white-haired teenager.

"How can reviving your dead grandmother be a mistake?" asked Patrick, who was widely known as Pat even though it was normally a girl's name.

"Well what was I supposed to do when my finger's just started glowing weirdly? Point it at my face? I couldn't help it if my crazy parents wanted a family graveyard in the backyard right outside my window."

The other two shrugged. Patrick perked up as he saw two familiar figures conversing just down the hall. A guy and a girl. The guy had short-cropped hair and a muscular build. He looked like the type who'd spend hours working out at home then come to school and boast about it; and he was, which just goes to show you how good you are at judging books by their covers. The girl had a great sense of style, in Nick's opinion. Her shoulder-length ebony hair was slicked back with violet highlights in them and she wore anything that was studded and leather. She had soft tan skin and almond eyes that were a trademark of orientals. She also had a knack for karate and collecting sharp objects.

Brad and Asia.

"Wazzup guys," said the overly excited Patrick.

They greeted him.

"So what class you guys got?"

"Speak proper English Pat... We have Gym for first period," Asia said disdainfully.

"I don't know why you hate that class," Brad said helplessly.

"Maybe because human perspiration disgusts me."

These two were another addition to their strangely assorted group. 'There's only two missing,' thought Nick.

"Hey Patrick, have you seen the gym teacher?" said Brad as they walked the stretch of two minutes before class.

"No. Why?"

"Some guys are saying she's the hottest teacher in the entire school."

"Cool... I'll get to see her next class then..."

Nick rolled his eyes, then spotted the last of the group.

Drew, who was sometimes called 'The Hippy' because of his loving affinity towards nature, strolled up in a leather hide vest, his auburn hair tied into a masculine ponytail. He was also known for the various pets he liked to talk about. Alongside him, Sonya Ceres, who was a foreign exchange student from Mexico from last year, waved at them. She had chocolate hair and was the group's genius student who made straight A's and maintained a perfect grade-point-average.

"Hola compadres."

Everyone issued a standard "Hi," save for Pat who decided that a "Yo" was much more appropriate for his newly acquired image.

When the bell rang, the gang had quickly decided that they'd all meet up for lunch in the cafeteria. But for now, it was going to be the first hour of the first day of the first time they would discover the secrets of Sanctuary Highschool.


	2. Learn Or Die

Whoo! I finally updated this story! Coolios, yes? Anyway, this ma' second fanfic and the less sane one. Thank you all you reviewers for REVIEWING! I love reviews --nods head-- Yup, yup!

Disclaimer: Do I hafta tell you again that I do not own Blizzard's stuff? Or my brain for that matter?

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In the eyes of the youth, all schools are weird. They were places where your self-esteem could drop to zero in an instant or where people get sued for unnecessary additions to the café food. But this school was weirder than weird; it was the epitome of weirdness. Each and every student could feel it deep down in their bones. The staff would often pop up somewhere expectantly or be waiting just around the corner, smiling, and the textbooks were abnormally huge. Sometimes, if you were alone in the quiet halls, you could hear things like faint crying or screaming, for that matter, yet no complaints ever get filed and no cops ever get called.

Nick began to wonder how he even got into this high school in the first place, just wondering right through Physics class which wasn't that hard because all they had to do was read what exactly Physics were. The teacher, Ms. Andall didn't look as if she'd cause him any trouble this year. But when he looked down at '2. Calculus- Mr. Isagal' printed on his schedule sheet, he nearly had a premature heart attack. Mr. Isagal, the notorious, sharp-eyed hawk who had thwarted each and every singles attempt Nick had made to prank him. Mr. Isagal, who had been delighted every time Nick took a field trip to the detention room, had decided to teach a grade higher. He sighed, already feeling doom encroaching upon him.

Patrick had to go to Gym for second period and, since their group was large and there was a better chance that he would see at least one of the group members, the now sweaty Brad would be joining him in the worst class in all of history.

"So Crow, how do you feel about Mr. Isagal as our teacher again?" Brad asked, mocking a talk show host, as they seated themselves in the decrepit, gloomy room even though the light shed it's dim radiance through the windows.

"Positively overjoyed," Crow said sarcastically.

"Okay class, settle down. Welcome to yet another year of high school. I, Mr. Isagal, shall be your instructor this year for the Mathematical branch called Calculus. Many familiar faces should remember me as their old Geometry teacher, and I greet all the newcomers to Sanctuary Highschool. I expect each and every one of you to behave properly, and we will start this class off to a good start. Other wise, I don't believe you'll enjoy sitting in my class for more than five minutes if I can help it. Especially _you_ Mr. Mancer…" the teacher grins, standing before the chalkboard in front of the class.

Crow glared at the teacher from his vantage point in the back of the room, as many curious students turned in their seats to look at such a perpetrator while Brad winced as if it were he who got recognized by Mr. Isagal. At the board, the tall man ran a hand through his hair, as fine and dark as the smooth texture of black silk. As he began his first lesson, Nick zoned out, preferring to stare out the window to his left at the expansive campus of the school under a perfect, cloudless sky.

Ah yes. That was a unique trait that had separated Sanctuary from all the others. The school was so expansive and the student body so immense that it had been divided into three sections or Sectors. Each student's schedule showed all the essential information about what classes that student had to take this year printed on it, including which Sector the class was located in. Because of this enlargement of the school, the school board of the state had made it a vital imperative that there be a principal and a certain number of instructors assigned to each Sector.

Nick brushed away the thought of being yet another hopeless appendage to the student body. With nothing much to watch outside, save for a few squabbling birds which were oddly all ravens, he focused on the reflections of the class on the window. But what he saw startled him. Focusing on Mr. Isagal's ethereal image on the window, bright, sapphire pinpoints shone in his pupils as he spoke energetically to the class. The baffled teenager blinked to see if this strange phenomenon was just a trick of the eyes or a glare in the glass. He shook his head, it was still there.

A concerned Brad turned to him. "Hey Crow. Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing… It's nothing…" The white teenager glanced at his teacher, then back to his reflection. The tiny lights he had seen were gone, replaced by the dark coffee of Mr. Isagal's eyes.

Crow sighed again and rattled his brain over his hallucination. Just as Isagal wrapped up his lecture, the bell rang. The teacher, now sitting behind his desk, watched Crow as he departed the room alongside Brad. Crow looked back at him, partly because he wanted to stare him down and partly because he wanted to know if he was going crazy.

But one thing that Nick had failed to see in the reflection of the window were the rippling, tendril-like wings sprouting from the man's back that, because they were ebony, were invisible against the backdrop of the black chalkboard…


	3. Bread Of The Devils

Hiyas everyone! A BIG wave to alla' y'all out there! Yo! Whoa. Why am I talking this way? Hmm… Anyway (will I ever stop saying that?) how are you all? Yeah. I'm fine. What? You didn't ask! Arg… Well folks I finally got my lazy butt up and decided to posty another chappie for this story! Enjoy! Please review everyone! It makes me feel much joy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Sure I don't. --runs off with Blizzard stuff-- But I will one day! Bwahahaaha. Yeah right…

Lunch, for the first day of the school year, was exceptionally disgusting. Well, that's what Nick thought anyway… There were only two places you were allowed to eat: Either sit in the cafeteria where the air forever smelled of questionable meat and bleach. Or out in the middle courtyard in the center of the rectangle created by the three, long main buildings that were the Three Branches of the school, where you'd have to face the music of Mother Nature. Since the autumn weather promised an imminent deluge soon, Crow and his group decided to sit inside rather than face the wet, soaky doom of the outside world.

"So how was the first half of the day for you all?" Amanda chirps, munching on an all-vegetarian sandwich.

"Physics is just great," Asia says sarcastically, eating a rather unhealthy lunch consisting of soda and a small bag of chips. "I just got acquainted with the wonders of mesons."

Pat looks up from a book titled 'Bling'. "It was a'ight," he says absently.

"Gym was cool. Oh hey, guess who we got for Calculus," Brad states, chowing down on a rather full foam tray of school-processed foods.

A horrified look crosses Drew's countenance. "Oh no…"

"Not _him_," Pat drops his book.

Brad nods, the center of attention now. "Nick's fav, Mr. Isagal."

The group gives a collective whine, save for Nick, who is too busy pondering about the Calculus incident and whether or not this was an omen for things to come, and the loveable Sonya, who doesn't mind having a dictator for a teacher.

"I don't know why you all hate him," Sonya implies, a Spanish accent hinting in her voice.

"Why you _like_ him, I'll never know," Asia says, crushing her empty bag and tossing it away without a care about what or who it lands on.

"That's jus' cuz' you got straight A's last yea'," Patrick chimes, trying to practice his affected 'gangsta' talk.

Crow tried his best to ignore the current issues being debated at the table. Chatter, chatter. He was beginning to feel a loss of appetite, replacing his fork back on his tray. The decision of whether or not to inform his friends about his strange vision was swimming around in his mind. The pile of mashed potatoes on his tray stared back at him with unseen eyes, lying dormant like some kind of amorphous creature. Now he lost all his appetite. Sure, he'd told his friends, eventually, about the revival of his undead grandmother a very strange tale indeed. But this was different. He was talking about Mr. Isagal, not some long dead junkie who decided life was better on the _other_ other end of the tunnel. Mr. Isagal, the professor who seemed to have watchful eyes and ears all over the school.

Something stops Nick. His friends had ceased their senseless chatter. In fact, the whole cafeteria was eerily silent. Scratch that. The entire _area _was silent. Even the indoor air conditioner for the cafetorium had silenced it's normal granny humming. No rustle of paper, no ringing of the cash register, no lively and colorful conversations being held. Not even cars honking out in the street.

Silence. Just silence.

The bewildered teenager looks up from his normal focal spot on the tray before him. All of a sudden, he jumps, startled. Everyone had their eyes trained on him, unblinking, the whites of their eyes showing like milky crescent moons. This scared him quite a bit. But the strangest thing, above the eerie silence and ghoulish stares, was that everyone was _smiling_. All the student's and even the cafeteria staff's cheeks were upturned, their teeth visible beneath stretched lips, mouths forming upturned U's.

Not entirely different from that of Lewis Carroll's Chesire Cat grin.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking at even his friends who seemed to be sharing in this odd, sinister prank.

"Wh-Wh-" Crow managed to stutter before a lean shadow outside the cafeteria caught his attention, a moving figure amidst the frozen, still world. A dark stain that walked across the field of his vision through the lunchroom window, shifting through others that did not move an inch, before melding in with the crowd. Had that been the principal?

In the blink of an eye, Nick Crow Mancer found himself amongst the normal, everyday commotion of an average lunch period once more. He turned this way and that, searching for any sign that the strange occurrence had actually happened and that he wasn't slipping into the maw of insanity. His friends were busy eating and conversing, the lunch staff no longer looking rawboned and smiling fiendishly. The different 'clans' of students were all minding their own businesses. No silence. No silence. The teenager's midlength, white hair was plastered to his scalp with by billions of beads of sweat. Perhaps it was the food that had created this twisted, dream-like hallucination. He picks up his fork and stirs the dirty-looking, green Jell-O coagulated on his tray. Suddenly, Crow does a double-take.

Were those ants swimming around in his Jell-O? Sure enough, upon closer inspection, little, black insects were crawling about on the surface of his food. In fact, his whole tray. Crawling around like moving quotations along his potatoes, bread, and pizza. Dropping (more like tossing) his fork, he gets up from his seat abruptly.

"What's wrong Crow?" Asia looks up, drawing the whole group's attention.

"Yeah, what's with you?" Patrick adds, book closed now.

Looking around in embarrassment, Crow suddenly was aware that he'd just about gotten everyone in the cafeteria to stare at him, not because they were some mindless, smiling zombie horde, but because they had just seen a peer freak out over the very same food they themselves were eating.

"Ants," was all Crow could mutter, pointing to his infested tray, before finding that nothing was wrong with his food. No ants. They were gone…

"What are you talking about?" Brad says, a French fry hanging from his mouth.

"Nick, where are you going?"

Maybe he was having a mental shutdown or something. That was it. He could see fear and concern mirrored in his friends' eyes.

"Sorry," Nick told his worried comrades. "I-I just have to check on something."

Backing away from his table, Crow fought his way through the hordes of teenagers lining the cafeteria doorways, crowding the stuffy hallways of the school building, Section 1, clustering about in his path. '_That's it',_ the flustered teenager thought, fiddling with his locker combination. '_I need to go home'_ His hands release the unopened lock. His attempt to leave the school been thwarted even before it got started by the notion that he didn't want it to show on his already loaded record.

Sighing in defeat, the white-haired teen made his way down the hall with no particular driving force, save to be away from his friends for awhile. The men's restroom came up to his left so he decided that it would be his first stop. '_What's wrong with me?'_ he thought, feeling a sense of vertigo overcoming him.

Once inside the foul-smelling room, Crow could feel the vertigo growing upon him. The quality of the restroom didn't help much either. Spider webs bloomed like wild bracken in the corners where the floor met the walls. Water dripped in a rhythmic tune from one of the faucets, reminding him of Chinese water torture. He vaguely remembered wondering at the age of ten, if teachers ever used the water torture on bad students. The sink basins were stained by God knew what and the floor tiles were prestigiously uneven. The reflection that stare back at him from a cracked mirror made him look haggard, worn, and weary. He sighs, leaning toward the sink, then to his surprise, he vomits…


End file.
